Library irises

“These irises have grown in the soil here for 30 years,” she explained as I wandered the library garden.

A quick stop at the library to return late materials turned into a moment of reflection. I’m not sure if the woman was a library photographer or an enthusiast visitor eager to have a conversation with anyone.

These irises were not fully blooming last time I was here (only emerging from their enclosures), but I was glad for this moment to see them open and grinning at me.

She interrupted my solitude with another quip, “These aren’t as grand as my own flowers, of course.”

I chuckled and inwardly wondered: why she just didn’t stay home and photograph her own flowers?

“Not everything in good soil blooms for 30 years,” I cautioned.

“If you know what you’re doing it works every time,” she said flatly, to which I didn’t not reply.

I’ve tried to grow irises, hyacinth, tulips, and daffodils here in high altitude Colorado soil — and have not had any luck. In sea-level, humid Chicago we had an abundance of those bulb flowers, which we inherited when we purchased our home.

But I’ll keep on trying. Maybe I’ll read a library book about it.

“Green stem up, place good soil!” she continued — yes, yes, and sometimes leaving bulbs means the soil breeds mold — and we have an abundance of rain, and so forth.

But not everything blooms for decades. Neither flowers nor people.

The work of growth may be overlooked until the flower ascends on a strong stem. Some thrive in adverse conditions, or need pruning. The weeds were thick in some spots.

And some flowers soar in the shade with little effort from the hand of the gardener — or notice by the world.